Only a Matter of Time
by Vers339
Summary: A collection of morbidly themed drabbles/short stories pertaining to the pairing KidxSoul. Rated M for a reason


**Inspired by ****_Sometimes He Has These Fits _****(a KidxLiz fic which is in the KidxSoul section), I wrote a series of KidxSoul drabbles! This type of writing isn't a norm for me, but I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out. It is rated M for a reason, including dark themes, the breaking of feels, and a vague lemon.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

A widened smile and twitching fingers are the only signs of it. At least, they are the only signs when he's conscious. Other times he just wakes up with tears racing down his cheeks, eyes gone entirely scarlet. Sometimes he'll scream a gargled version of "little demon", the sound resembling that of a dying animal. The shouts of agony and cackles of insanity aren't the worst bit of it; it's the threatening silence with the twisted smile—the look that reflects what the weapon would look like if he was a kishin.

Death the Kid can't remember the first time he saw Soul's madness, and he can only hope that there will be a last.

It is when their fingers are intertwined that Kid feels truly relaxed. He still keeps a check on the white-haired teen's soul, but it will never be as reassuring as the steady heartbeat transferred to him through the other's palm.

"This isn't your decision, Maka."

The female meister's eyes widen at Soul's words, but she holds her ground. "I won't let you go live with him."

"You're being uncool."

"And you're being an idiot!" Maka throws her hands up in desperation, "He can't take care of your…issue, like I do. You know that."

"Maka, when I'm around Kid, _he_ comes back less."

Her head drops, the epitome of defeat. If there is one person Maka can never beat, it's Soul. He may listen to her when they are playing the roles of meister and weapon, but as best friends? Never. And just like every other issue the two have ever disagreed on, Soul wins.

Finally, the night that Soul will move into the Death Residence arrives. Kid has already made a deal with Patty and Liz so that they will be out of the house by the time Soul gets there with his things. As the older Thompson walks out the door, she makes a jab about the scythe messing up the symmetry in the house. Kid merely ignores it because, as he has already stated, Soul Eater Evans is the one asymmetrical thing that can be considered an exception.

Tangled limbs writhe against each other. Lips press together, a show of affection peeking through the lust. Their panting is in sync, with a mixture of moans in between. The rise and fall of their chests is shallow, not taking the time to breathe properly as they explore each other's bodies. It is a small sacrifice to pay to cherish the moment.

A normalcy for the two males, sex serves the usual purposes of relieving stress and conveying their want, but it also pushes back the thought that when Soul wakes up in the morning, the only thing he might be able to see is the little demon, whispering the promises of power. He may be terrified for a half hour, maybe more, before he realizes that he is not, in fact, in the clutches of madness, but in the arms of his lover.

No, neither of the two males dare think this morbid thought as they perform an act as old as time.

Soul is a warrior, a weapon of unequal strength. Kid understands this, but the worry flooding his mind never leaves when the scythe is not in his sight. Because, as the shinigami always reminds himself, even if Soul is strong, his demon is stronger.

As he stares at the stiches on Stein's clothing, Soul can't help but relate to the jagged lines. After all, wouldn't he have already fallen apart, if not for his friends and lover?

"Soul," Stein pauses to light a cigarette, and he blows out a heavy puff of smoke before continuing on, "There's no way to wash the black blood from your system."

The scythe doesn't even blink. "I already knew that."

"It is also likely that the black blood will make the disturbances within your soul more frequent."

"Where is your research? Your proof?"

Soul freezes, recognizing that voice instantly. A second later, a pale hand is gripping his. A silent promise.

"I know you can see it too, Kid. Soul's soul is becoming more erratic as time goes by," Stein says, his voice bearing a dark edge to it, "And I will say you are slowing that process down, but it is only a matter of ti—"

"Shut up," Kid tightens his grip on Soul's hand, "Soul would never lose to something so petty."

The doctor just shakes his head, eyes portraying the emotions Soul refuses to show.

The ball falls through the hoop, and Soul gives a sharp-toothed smile. Maka groans, having lost to Kid's team for the third time that week. Being captain, the meister now has several plans scheduled with her papa over the next month. Her weapon doesn't shake off his smirk, even when she raises her book in a threat to hit him.

Suddenly, arms sneak around Soul's waist, and a light breathe tickles his right ear. "Nice victory shot."

Soul doesn't register Maka walking away as he turns in Kid's arms so that they are face-to-face. He chastely kisses the meister, and as he pulls away, his smile has turned softer. The shinigami grins in return, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

"I'll never let you go," Kid whispers, Blackstar's taunting for them kiss barely audible to him.

"I know," Soul says, "But neither will _he_."

The rings are nothing more than silver bands with the Death insignia on them, yet Soul can't help but stare warmly at them resting on his ring fingers. It wasn't a proposal, the weapon knows, but a promise. In return, he had given Kid two black rings with a small red gem embedded in the middle of each.

_"I'll stay by your side for as long as you live." _The words still ring in the scythe's mind, and a smile ghosts across his lips.

Soul's promise to Kid is a little different: _I'll stay by your side until I can't fight the madness anymore._

However, Soul knows that, in reality, their promises are exactly the same.


End file.
